


Mine

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Aunt May is Hella Cool, Briefly Cheating, Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a young age, Peter Parker was always Osborn property. And from a young age, Peter Parker'd been okay with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

“You’re mine.” Harry’d said when they were four, and Peter’d tried to stumble over to another clump of children in their Pre-K group. The young heir’d quickly put a stop to that, tugging the misguided boy back to his corner of the playroom. 

Peter nodded obediently and settled on the floor next to Harry, helping him with the lego house he’d been constructing for the past few minutes.

He was Harry’s, and he could live with that. 

~

“You’re mine.” A seven-year old Harry reminded the long-limbed six-year old, gripping his hand tightly while they swung on the swings. There would normally be a line of children waiting to swing behind them, but even the older kids at the elementary school knew to leave the two boys be. 

“Are you mine?” Peter asked absently, kicking his feet on the ground. 

That made Harry think for a while, watching Peter toe at the woodchips beneath him. 

“Yes,” he said decisively, nodding. “Yes, that works. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

Peter gave a soft smile, glancing over at the Osborn. “Good.” 

~

“He’s mine.” Harry all but growled, standing in front of a whimpering doe-eyed kid of nine years old, his eyes stony on Flash Thompson’s. He didn’t seem to understand that Peter Parker was the wrong kid to beat up. The one that was curled upon the the hard asphalt of the blacktop. 

He also didn’t realize that punching Harry Osborn in the face was _not_ the right reaction to have.

It’d started in an all out _attack_ , and ended with Flash, Peter, and a bruised but still sharp-looking Harry in the principal’s office. 

Twenty minutes later Aunt May arrived to pick the two of them up, and winced at what she saw. 

“Oh, boys, what have you done?” She asked, signing the necessary paperwork to get the two of them out of school for the day. They’d been issued no more than a recess detention, which they could both live with so long as they were together. 

Peter looked up with big brown eyes, one of which was bruised. “It wasn’t our fault, Flash started it, he was being mean to me and pushing me and-” 

“Enough.” She ordered, putting up a hand to silence her nephew. She rounded on Harry, whom she had the same type of affection(and discipline) for. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

Harry shrugged cooly, pushing a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “He was hurting Peter. I stepped in.” 

Aunt May looked between the two, lips pursed. “Neither of you hit Flash before he hit you?” 

They both shook their heads, glancing at one another. 

“Well, fine. But I want you both to know that fighting is _never_ the right thing to do, alright?” She asked, leading them out of the school. 

“Yes, Aunt May,” They chorused, smiling to one another behind her back. 

~

“You can’t leave,” Peter said weakly, trying valiantly not to cry. It wasn’t working out, though, because tears slipped down his cheeks. 

Ten-year old Peter was very awkward, with tree branch limbs and braces. He was entirely disproportionate, though Harry had a feeling that by the time he returned he wouldn’t be _that_ bad to look at. 

“I don’t want to,” Harry replied, his own voice thick with tears. “I don’t want to leave you. You’re mine.” 

They’d been standing in front of the airport gates for too long. All of Harry’s luggage was in a cart just waiting, and Aunt May was tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and looking sad, but neither of them cared. Peter rook a step forward and embraced the eleven-year old boy tightly, holding on for dear life. 

Harry returned the tight embrace, tears falling onto Peter’s hair while his dark t-shirt grew wet with Peter’s tears. 

“Bye, Peter.” He whispered into his ear, pulling away after a long moment to take his cart and push it towards the entrance. 

~

_I’m still yours,_

_Peter_

He sent the email with finality, curled up in his desk chair. He was wearing the sweater that Harry’d left at his house exactly one year ago, when Peter had held Harry tightly and promised to e-mail “at least once a week.” the sweater was a bit large and too small in some places, but it still carried just a whiff of Harry. 

After he outgrew it, he tucked it into his bottom drawer and waited patiently. 

He never got a reply. 

~

“Are you still mine?” 

Ten years. Ten years Peter’d been without Harry, and now here he was. 

Aunt May was out, working a shift at the diner, and in her place came Harry. Harry, who was standing on his doorstep and staring up at Peter with a kind of unsureness he’d never seen on the young heir before. 

Peter stared at him for a long while, dumbfounded, as Harry stepped closer to him, leaned up, and pressed his lips to Peter’s. 

It took mere moments for the younger man to reciprocate, his hands coming up to rest against Harry’s shoulders. 

He pulled away after a moment, a knowing grin still on his face as he patted Peter’s cheek. “Yeah. Still mine.” 

~

“I thought you were mine.” 

“I am yours!” Harry protested, tugging on his shirt as the blonde woman he’d just been caught with made herself scarce. “Peter, you don’t understand, she-” 

“What don’t I understand?” Peter demanded, his hands curled to fists at his side. “You were fucking her with good intentions?” 

“No, you-” 

“Save it. I’m leaving.” He interrupted, putting his hands up as he strode towards the elevator. 

Harry stumbled after him, trying to both pull his pants on and stop the taller man. “Peter-” 

“I don’t want to hear it.” He said, stepping into the elevator and pressing the close button before Harry could stop him. 

~

 _You’re mine._

That night, Peter put a hole in his wall. 

He promised Aunt May that he’d fix it the moment she stepped into his room, at which point she left with an apologetic look. 

He wasn’t Harry’s anymore. And Harry wasn’t his. 

~

When a knock came from the door, Peter was off at the store buying milk. When Aunt May opened it, she found none other than Harry Osborn holding no less than a dozen red roses. 

She’d been under strict orders to not let Harry in. She knew this. But it was pouring, and the boy looked so cold and sad that she simply had to usher him in and offer him some hot tea. 

“Peter isn’t here right now,” She called from the kitchen, walking into the living room and handing him a mu. “But I’ll put these in a vase and leave them in his room.” 

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully, sipping his tea gently. Then, he couldn’t help but ask. “Is he . . . mad? At me?” 

The older woman shrugged softly, bringing a vase into the room to rearrange the roses. “He was, a few days ago. Now I think he just misses you.” She smiled to herself, shaking her head. “He’s stubborn. Just like his uncle, and his father, and you.” She laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders. 

Harry watched her, smiling lightly because he’d always liked Peter’s aunt. It was hard not to. “Thank you, Aunt May.” 

She shook her head dismissively, glancing up at him. “It’s no trouble, dear.” She winked, nudging him lightly. “You’d better get out of here, before Peter finds out I let you in.” 

~

“Aunt May?” Peter called from his room, footsteps being heard in the kitchen.

“Hm?” She returned, smiling knowingly as she plated their dinners. 

Peter stepped into the kitchen, carrying a vase full of roses. “Did you let Harry in today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear.” May replied, shaking her head. 

The young man stared at her for a moment with accusation in his eyes, before shaking his head and turning back to his room. Looking down, he read over the enclosed card for the thousandth time. 

_I’m yours._

~

“Do you swear?”

“On everything.” Harry replied, nodding confidently. “I’m yours.” 

Peter surged forward and wrapped his arms around Harry, leaning down to put his head in the crook of Harry’s neck. “You aren’t allowed to do anything like that ever again.” 

The CEO returned the embrace, closing his eyes. “I won’t. I swear. You’re mine.” 

“And you’re mine.” Peter returned, kissing his cheek. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Comments + Kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
